Nothing to Forgive
by Tempest Kiro
Summary: He died with the bitterest of regrets, hated, alone and unthanked. Harry hoped to give the man some measure of peace, by granting him a chance he never had in life.


To bring some peace to someone who had none.

That was what it had been about when Harry retrieved the broken heirloom from the forbidden forest. It had been found still sitting on the edge of the clearing, at the very spot where he had dropped it with no intention of ever using again. In death he had no need of it.

Indeed how could he have known that death did not plan to keep him?

It was only now, when he stood upon the other side, did he understand how blessed he was. Throughout the life he had lead, the suffering he had endured under the shadow of the prophecy, never had he been forced to face it alone. For all those that died, and those that lost, the mistakes he made and sacrifices he demanded, he was forgiven for. No longer a boy, no longer haunted by the spectre of death, he emerged from the other side, alive and loved.

And all along, he never thanked the man who sacrificed so much just so he could have a chance to stand there.

For this reason he had recovered the stone, he couldn't just let it end there for Severus Snape. The man who had known nothing but misery, suffering and regret for the entirety of his life. Who died hated for the deeds he did not do and unthanked for the sacrifices he made.

Unthanked by Harry, for the entire seven years he had known him. Harry, who accused him of the worst again and again. Distrusting him. Hating him.

Ungrateful the man once called him. Ungrateful he had been. And knowing now what he knew, ungrateful he felt.

The hatred the old potions master appeared to bear for him as a boy he understood now. His father had been a great man, but had not always been, and Snape's reproach for him had been just in its own unreasonable way. Harry wore the face of the man who had persecuted him, and the eyes of the woman he loved. The child's existence had been a constant painful reminder of both great failures in the potion master's life.

The day he lost the one woman he loved to a tormentor he hated.

And the day he condemned her to die.

Harry supposed he should hate Snape for this, for being the reason he was the chosen one. The reason why he was orphaned. But no matter how much he might have hated him for that revelation, he understood, that no man hated Severus Snape more than Severus Snape himself.

He lived and died, with the most bitter of regrets.

Unforgiven.

Hated.

Harry could not hate any more.

He stood in headmaster's office, no longer a student all nervous and bright-eyed, awaiting a Professor's attention. Indeed the last time he stood there as a student, Albus Dumbledore had been the headmaster, and with him the whirling curios and silent puffing oddities that lined the walls. When he stood here last, a student no longer, preparing to meet his final end, those objects of whimsy laid untouched but silent. That office had been Snape's then, a fact the castle never recognised on the night he died.

Hogwarts castle remembered those that served in its highest seat and honoured them. Upon their death, a portrait of the headmaster hung itself on the circular wall of the office, life-like, and often quite alive. Yet the night that Snape died, his scowling face did not grace those walls.

Some said it had been fair as he had deserted his post before his death. Some decried it as a terrible injustice as the true tale of his deeds came to light.

None decried it as loudly as Harry had. He found his fame useful on this occasion.

"Well you did it Harry." Came a mutter from his right. "That greasy old git's got a place right next to Dumbledore."

"Ron!" Came a chastising hiss from his left. "Show some respect!"

Ron relented quickly. "Alright alright! Just trying to lighten the mood. Sheesh Hermione. No need to bite my head of." He groused under his breath. Harry understood why his best friend was so blasé, Fred's funeral was not long ago. In the light of how many had died, Harry's interest in Snape seemed queer.

They had just held a ceremony for the unveiling of the portrait. Professor McGonagall headed it, now headmaster in true. She spoke clearly of the man and what his actions meant for the school and the world on a whole. In her speech she honoured her co-worker, and spoke of the regret that the last words she had ever said to him were those that were meant to hurt.

 _Coward._

He hated that word.

They all had regrets.

Harry stood now, staring at the portrait of the man who had made his life as a student hell. Even now his portrait glowered down at him in silent disapproval. Though he might not have been young per say, but among the portraits of the withered and old, of those who lived long and full lives, he had been but a young man to the grave.

"I think you've done all you can for him." Hermione said with a comforting pat on the shoulder, he turned from the scowling portrait to give a small nod.

During the final battle, when Harry revealed the truth behind Snape's actions, everything they thought they had known about the man turned on its head. Hermione's feelings on the matter came the most strongly, possibly stronger than even Harry's.

" _It's so unfair."_ _She had sobbed. "We didn't trust him, even when we should- should have. Even when Dumbledore told us we should have."_

" _Snape didn't exactly make himself easy to trust." Ron had reasoned, baffled by his girlfriend's intense reaction._

 _Wiping the tears she had steadied herself. "You don't understand Ron. He did so much for us, for everyone. And we hated him to his grave. The moment he died he had no one who believed in him, no one who even thanked him! He died without even knowing if any of his sacrifice was worth it!"_

Though her words stuck with Harry, over the intermittent weeks of celebrations and mourning that followed his old potions master never had a prominent place in his mind. Too many had died, too many he needed to mourn, too many arrangements he had to make to help those that were left behind. It was only after the calm settled did he finally find himself thinking on what Hermione had said.

When Harry shared the true story of Severus Snape with the wider wizarding world, though not the reason behind his actions, the gratitude came. Too late for the man himself. It was unfair Hermione had said, but in the professor's own words: Life isn't fair.

But for this at least it didn't have to be.

"Guys. Can I have a moment?" Harry stepped forward and turned to both his friends. "I need to speak to Professor Snape."

One by one the other headmasters in the portraits got up and left, though not honour bound to obey Harry they respected his wishes anyhow. Dumbledore was the last to leave, with a little twinkle in his eye. Ron grimaced as Hermione dragged him away. "Blimey Harry, it's not like that portrait is the real Snape." He said before being hushed by Hermione and ushered out.

Only when the door closed and Harry was alone did he finally draw from his pocket the Hallow. Harry held it aloft and slowly turned the stone in his fingers, allowing the light to glint softly from the cracked halves. He looked to the portrait of Snape who scowled darkly and persisted in his silence.

He had already spoken to his old wise headmaster about this.

" _What will you be doing with that Harry?" The portrait of Dumbledore had asked when he stood alone in the office, an hour before the ceremony was to begin._

 _Allowing the words to form from his sincerity Harry took a moment to speak. "Professor. I know I said I wouldn't look for the stone, and I still intend to get rid of it after I'm done, probably in the room of requirements if it's still there. But I wouldn't have if I didn't think that doing this was the right thing."_

" _What would that be?" The old headmaster gently urged._

" _Professor Snape," Harry began, his eyes drew to the curtained portrait of the certainly scowling headmaster, "he died without ever being thanked for what he did or acknowledged for the suffering he must have endured. I wanted to thank him, and show him the wizarding world will not forget him and his sacrifices." He held the stone aloft. "Would that be wise headmaster?"_

 _Dumbledore gave an enigmatic smile. "To make peace with someone you did not reach out to in life. Regret for words said and unsaid. Let me ask you this Harry." The painted Dumbledore leaned in to the young man standing before him. "Is the catharsis meant for him, or for you?"_

 _That had been a question Harry asked himself not long before. He knew what he truly wanted to do and answered with the truth. "For us both."_

 _Dumbledore smiled but said not a word more._

Standing opposite the portrait now Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, turning the resurrection stone three times like he did once before. He knew what to expect before his eyes even opened and set them upon a man who was neither ghost nor corporeal.

His dark cloak showed no signs of the strife he went through in the last moments of his life, his throat unadorned by the great wounds that carried him into death. His eyes were weary as they slid across the office that had been his briefly in life, before settling on the young man that stood before him. Harry never noticed before, an impression he could not shake now, that the man carried a great sadness within.

"Hello Professor." The hesitation he felt did not colour his words.

"Potter." The professor drawled, his frown deepening on his brow. "It appears even in death I am not free of you."

Harry almost smiled at that. "It's good to see you too sir."

Snape gave him an astute once over, frowning as if unsure what to make of it. "Why are you still alive?"

"I survived." Harry answered. "I did as you told, and I lived."

Snape's frown lessened and his scowling lips withdrew, his expression was almost that of relief. That thought would have surprised Harry before, but knowing what he knew now he could believe it. "I called you back because I felt I need to thank you sir. I wouldn't be here, none of us would be here, if not for what you did."

The scowl immediately fell back in place. "Save it Potter. I did not do it for your gratitude."

And there it was, his delightful personality. But since witnessing the man for who he truly was, Harry no longer felt the sting in his words. "Regardless professor. Thank you. We all thank you."

Snape's scowl receded as his frown deepened. He followed Harry's eyes over his shoulder to the portrait of himself scowling upon the wall. "Oh dear Merlin…" was all he managed through gritted teeth. His portrait scowled back at him and seemingly exchanged a long suffering sigh with his dead counterpart.

"I made sure that everyone knew your role in our victory." Harry explained. "We all agreed it would not do if you did not at least have your headmaster's portrait."

"I trust you did not reveal anything that was not yours to reveal." Snape snapped, anger in his eyes.

The young man hid a guilty grimace. Only those who participated in the final battle heard his revelation but of those very few had believed it, thinking it was Harry's way of unsettling his foe. "I only told them of what you did, not why you did it." He paused, weighing his words. "Only. I think it a bit of a shame."

"Don't." Snape almost snarled. "If I had known you would survive I would not have revealed so much."

Harry winced, a little stung. "But professor, don't you think the world should remember?"

The professor's darkening look answered him before his words could. "No."

"Even though everything you did was for her?"

Snape's scowl softened. "You know that. Then you know I owe the world nothing."

"But professor, the world thanks you now that everyone knows the truth. The reason why you did it would not change that fact. Nobody will think ill of you. Well, except perhaps the students who had to take your Advanced Potions course." Harry joked with a strained smile, quite certain the potions master would not find it in the least funny.

To Harry's surprise he didn't even elicit a scowl from the dead man. Instead Snape clasped his hands behind his back and closed his eyes, a pained expression etched into the lines on his face. "I do not wish for this Potter. I do not wish for it ever to be known. If you paid attention when you entered my memories then you know why."

"Sir." Harry dipped his head in acknowledgement. "That burden you carry, it shouldn't be. You are forgiven."

"I don't _want_ your forgiveness." Snape snarled, then as quickly as it flared up his temper dissipated, almost as if the fight left him altogether. "Do as you wish Potter. The realm of the living concerns me no longer."

After a stretching silence Harry spoke. "Then I will tell them this. That there existed a person named Lily, who had a friend so loyal and loved her so fiercely, that even in her death he honoured her till his own. That he dedicated his life to protecting the son she had. Bore the burden of his duties so that her legacy may be protected." Harry smiled, the first sincere smile he had ever given his potions professor. "That at the end of it all, she forgave him for the mistakes he made in his life."

"Forgive me? Lily?" Snape shook his head. "The dead cannot even speak. How could they forgive?"

"But professor." Harry said with a nervous grin. "You're speaking right now."

Snape stared for a moment, understanding dawning on his keen mind. His eyes widened and breath caught.

"Sir, there's someone who wishes to see you." And Harry turned the stone once more.

A hush fell over the room. Without turning Harry knew who was beside him. It was as if the had world disappeared within Snape's eyes, reduced to the single person standing before him.

"Lily…" He gasped.

She stepped forward, turning slightly to cast a smile to her son. She had wanted this too, Harry had ensured to ask.

"Severus…" It had been so long since that voice called his name. Snape stumbled a step backwards, his eyes wide with surprise, longing and regret. Such bitter regret.

"Severus." She called again. Stepping forward, closing their distance. "Severus. Sev." At the sound of his childhood nickname the professor froze in place, allowing the beautiful spectre to reach him. Unwittingly he lifted his hand, as if he wanted to touch her but didn't dare. Lily reached out and took it in her own, and in that moment it appeared as if all the burdens of his life lifted from the professor's eyes.

She laughed, a crystal clear sound. "Look at those lines. Under your eyes. Between your brows. You frown too much you know that Sev?" He did not answer her. It was all he could do to keep breathing, a futile action in his current form. "You look so much older than I remember." Her eyes grew sad. "But still too young."

Sorrow returned to Snape's eyes. "But older than you…" He whispered.

She smiled and grasped his hand firmly. "I don't blame you."

"But I do!" Voice cracking his eyes misted over. It was all he could do to stop the tears from flowing freely.

Green eyes searched dark ones as Lily held his hand. "Whatever burden of blame you carried you have more than made up for." She indicated with a smile to the young man standing silently out of the way. "My son is alive because of you."

He acknowledged Harry with a glance and answered her with an admission. "I did it for you."

"And you did it because there was good in you Severus." She smiled her brilliant smile. "There was good all along and I am sorry too. I'm sorry I couldn't see it." She grasped his hand firmly. "I'm sorry I gave up on you so easily."

And with that the years of carefully laid self-control, the chains upon his heart fell away. Tears streamed freely from his face as it was all Snape could do to grasp her hand and gasp for unneeded breath. Lily pulled him into an embrace. Decades of loneliness and regret, a six year friendship that had been broken by unkind words and wilful pride, washed over them and dissipated like a hex that lingered for far too long.

"I forgive you Severus, so please forgive me too."

"There's nothing to forgive." He choked out.

Words they could not say to each other in life, words that came too late, and had it not been for magic and kindness and fate, words that would have never been said. Their embrace lasted till the magic that brought them there ebbed away and they both began to fade.

"Rest well Severus." Lily said with a smile. "Thank you. And be at peace." With that she disappeared, her smile and words would linger ever on.

The translucent spectre of Snape stood alone in the room, yet for the first time since Harry had ever known him he smiled freely. He seemed like another man entirely.

"Professor Snape. Before you go I wanted to apologise to you too." Harry called out to the fading spirit. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you when all my life you did what you could to protect me."

Barely visible Snape smiled a smile that Harry was unsure was for him. "In that too there is nothing to forgive." He faded entirely, his voice was but an echo in the empty chamber. "Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Live a good life."

The room was silent and empty once more. A surreal moment that Harry could not be entirely sure actually happened. Except, when he looked up to where the portrait of Snape hung, he wore the most peculiar expression.

"What on earth? Harry. Is Snape _smiling_?!" Those were the first words out of Ron's mouth when Harry opened the door to let his friends back in.

Harry shrugged, a smile on his face too. Hermione grinned at the sight whilst Ron wrinkled his nose. "Ugh that looks so wrong. You think the enchantment's malfunctioned?"

"He looks better that way." Hermione admonished with a gentle swat at her boyfriend. "What did you do Harry?"

"Yeah. We heard you talking but nobody was answering. You sounded off your rocker again."

Harry took a deep breath and threw his arms around his two friends, guiding them out of the office towards the stairs. "Well guys, I can't exactly explain. But I think I need to tell you, you and everyone a story.

"A story about the bravest man I've ever known…"

* * *

A/N:

Thank you to Author JK Rowling for creating this wonderful universe.

RIP Alan Rickman. Thank you for bringing our professor to life. You will be missed.


End file.
